


The honor of your presence is requested in my pants

by PluralForce



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Atobe has more money than you, Boys Being Idiots, Implied background Silver Pair, Joke Flirting, M/M, Oshitari's stupid sexy voice, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5234966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PluralForce/pseuds/PluralForce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oshitari finds the "perfect" greeting card for Atobe.  When Atobe retaliates, it turns into a joke flirting war that quickly grows out of control.  And maybe turns out not to be so much of a joke, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The honor of your presence is requested in my pants

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I finish properly in years, and it’s something like this. Whoops.
> 
> I realized a while back that, for all the years I spent in Tenipuri fandom, I never actually wrote a fic for Oshitari/Atobe, the pairing of my heart. This is here to change that. Fic is set sometime in high school, so class arrangements are however I feel like, and the school building now has balconies outside the classrooms because I say so (and hey, they’re a snobby rich school, it fits).
> 
> As for the stuff referenced in the fic: the card actually exists, and spawned the whole idea for the fic; the poem is a public domain poem found on the internet; the romance novel is made up from a title generator and isn’t actually real.
> 
> As always, thanks to my lovely friend Relle for the inspiration and encouragement.

It starts innocently enough, as these things usually do.  Actually, it doesn’t start with either Oshitari or Atobe; it starts, in fact, with Gakuto.  
  
“C’mon, I need to get a card or something for my mom’s birthday, and you’d know best about all that sappy stuff, right, Yuushi,” he insists one Sunday.  
  
Thus, Oshitari finds himself in a greeting card store with his teammate on a rare day off, wondering why he’s here instead of at home.  
  
“Surely you could have done this by yourself, Gakuto?” he wonders, taking a quick glance at a card before immediately putting it back.  These are plenty “sappy” as Gakuto puts it, but they’re not nearly sincere enough.  
  
“Maybe, but I’m not any _good_ at this kind of stuff,” Gakuto replies as he stares intently at the rows of cards.  “Anything I get isn’t gonna be half as good as whatever you pick out.”  
  
Oshitari hums slightly.  “So you acknowledge that I’m the expert in women, then.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, shut it.”  Gakuto pulls a card out of the rack, then immediately snorts and starts cracking up.  “Yuushi — oh my god, Yuushi, come look at this,” he manages through his laughter.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Oshitari walks over and plucks the card out of Gakuto’s hand, then raises both eyebrows with an amused smile as he sees what it is.  Written on the front of the card, in flowery cursive writing, is the phrase: _The honor of your presence is requested in my pants._  
  
“I-it’s so _Atobe_ ,” Gakuto says, still laughing.  
  
At that, Oshitari starts laughing as well.  Because, really, it _is_ very Atobe.  
  
“I think I’m going to buy it for him,” Oshitari decides after a moment.  “Leave it in his shoe box one morning.  I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”  
  
Gakuto, who’s just started calming down, goes into another fit of laughter.  “Do it, do it, you should so do it.”  
  
Eventually both of them manage to get a hold of themselves, and actually find a card for Gakuto’s mother, and they check out while both trying not to start laughing about the card again.  The cashier barely blinks at the sight of two giggly teenage boys buying a completely ridiculous card, and Oshitari privately thinks she’s probably seen all kinds.  
  
——  
  
It’s Monday morning after practice when Atobe reaches into his shoe box at school and finds an envelope inside.  Nothing he hasn’t gotten before, being as popular as he is, and he’s about to dismiss it as more of the same until he pulls it out and takes a look at it.  Because his name on the front is clearly written in Oshitari’s neat, careful hand.  
  
Sighing and wondering what he’s up to this time, Atobe resigns himself and opens it up.  
  
 _The honor of your presence is requested in my pants._  
  
Atobe opens the card up.  Inside is written:  
  
 _Saw this and thought of you.  —xoxo Oshitari_  
  
He’s trying to figure out if he should feel irritated or exasperated when Shishido pokes his head over Atobe’s shoulder.  “What’d Oshitari do this time?” Shishido asks, eyeing the card.  
  
Atobe hands it over wordlessly.  Shishido glances over the inside, closes the card, then takes one look at the front and doubles over with laughter.  
  
Atobe glares at him.  “Surely it isn’t _that_ funny, Shishido.”  
  
“Yes — yes it is,” Shishido gasps out.  Once he’s finally finished laughing, he hands over the card, which Atobe shoves into his bag with a scowl.  
  
Shishido grins, still looking entirely too amused at the situation.  “So?  What’re you gonna do back?”  
  
“I’m not sure yet.  I’ll need to think about this,” Atobe says as they head off down the hall to class.  It’s a testament to how long they’ve known each other that Shishido immediately read the situation correctly; after all, one way or another, Atobe _will_ get revenge somehow.  
  
——  
  
Before class starts, Shishido separates himself from Atobe and sets off for Gakuto’s classroom.  The bright red head of hair is easy to spot, so it only takes a moment of surveying from the doorway before Shishido finds him.  He strides over and sits down sideways in the empty chair in front of Gakuto’s desk.  
  
“Dude,” he says by way of greeting, “you have _got_ to see the thing Oshitari got Atobe.”  
  
Gakuto brightens.  “Oh, did Yuushi give him the card already?”  
  
“Wait, you’re _in_ on this?”  Shishido grins.  
  
“I _found_ the card,” Gakuto brags.  
  
Shishido cracks up again.  “Seriously, man, _genius_.  Atobe is already plotting revenge.”  
  
“Of course he is,” Gakuto laughs.  “Any idea what he’ll do yet?”  
  
“Nope.  But I’m gonna help.  This thing is too funny to stay out of.”  
  
——  
  
It’s not until Tuesday night that the opportunity presents itself.  
  
Atobe is at home, working on an assignment on the computer and absently trying to decide how best to retaliate, when Shishido IMs him out of the blue.  
  
Shishido: atobe  
Shishido: atobe I found it  
Atobe: You finally found the other part of that brain of yours that you lost a long time ago?  
Shishido: shut up  
Shishido: no I mean I found something for your revenge for the card  
  
The next message is a link to a website.  Curiosity piqued, Atobe opens it.  
  
It’s a poem.  A love poem, at that.  
  
 _The White Rose_  
  
 _The red rose whispers of passion,_  
 _And the white rose breathes of love;_  
 _O, the red rose is a falcon,_  
 _And the white rose is a dove._  
  
 _But I send you a cream-white rosebud_  
 _With a flush on its petal tips;_  
 _For the love that is purest and sweetest_  
 _Has a kiss of desire on the lips._  
  
 _—John Boyle O’Reilly_  
  
It’s short and effective.  And just unnecessarily flowery enough.  And… and so very much like something Oshitari would like.  Atobe sits back and ponders for a moment, then IMs Shishido back.  
  
Atobe: I appreciate the assistance, Shishido.  
Atobe: Though, may I ask why you were looking at love poetry to begin with?  
Shishido: shut up atobe I found it by accident  
  
Atobe’s not sure if he should believe him.  
  
——  
  
It’s Wednesday morning when Oshitari finds an envelope in his shoe box with Atobe’s ornate handwriting on the front, and chuckles to himself.  
  
“Finally,” he mutters as he opens it.  “I thought he’d never reply.”  Gakuto is next to him, grinning in anticipation.  
  
Inside is the love poem, a sappy thing that Oshitari has to admit is somewhat to his taste.  Underneath, handwritten, is: _As thanks for the card.  —Atobe_  
  
Gakuto is giggling furiously beside him.  In any other circumstance, Oshitari might be amused, himself, but coming from Atobe, something like this is tantamount to a declaration of war.  
  
“Oh, Atobe,” he says quietly, a small grin forming on his lips.  “You have no idea what you’ve just gotten into.”  
  
——  
  
Atobe expects Oshitari to take the bait immediately, but it’s not until the following Monday morning that he reaches into his desk and finds a box with his name written on it in Oshitari’s handwriting.  
  
Inside are a dozen identical chocolates.  Atobe raises an eyebrow — this seems rather tame for Oshitari — and picks one up, biting into it tentatively.  He cringes immediately.  
  
Caramel.  The chocolates have caramel in them.  Oshitari _knows_ how much Atobe hates caramel, has listened to him rant with no small amount of amusement every Valentine’s Day since junior high about how many chocolates he’s gotten that have gone to waste because they have _caramel_.  
  
Atobe grimaces and slides the box of chocolates across his desk.  Message received: Oshitari is serious.  
  
“Hmm?  Is that what I think it is?”  Shishido’s finally noticed the box from a few seats over, and comes over to Atobe’s desk to inspect it.  
  
“Yes, it is.”  Atobe picks up the box and hands it to him.  “Here, you can have it.  I won’t be eating it, anyway.”  
  
“Hey, hey, what do you think I’m going to do with a box of chocolates from a guy?  You think I’m going to eat it, either?”  
  
“Then give it to Ohtori,” Atobe suggests, and turns away just as Shishido turns bright red and starts spluttering.  
  
——  
  
Tuesday morning, after tennis practice is over, Oshitari has to admit he’s caught completely by surprise when he opens his locker and about half a dozen bright pink, sparkly cards tumble out.  
  
Oshitari frowns and bends over to pick them up, then looks them over one by one.  They’re pink, and full of glitter and jewels and hearts, and each one has a message in purple ink and florid cursive handwriting professing the writer’s deep, undying love for Oshitari.  He doesn’t even need to look to know who the sender is.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Atobe looking smug from across the room.  
  
He’s honestly rather amused at this point.  He also knows he can do Atobe one better.  
  
Off to one side, Shishido and Gakuto are muttering to each other while glancing over at Oshitari with muffled laughter.  
  
“How long are they going to keep doing this?”  
  
“I dunno, I’m not even giving Atobe suggestions anymore.  I guess when one of them wins?”  
  
“Yeah, but how do you _win_ something like this?  Where’s the ending point?”  
  
Choutarou, next to them, looks over at Oshitari and his love notes curiously.  “Is something going on between Atobe-buchou and Oshitari-senpai?”  
  
Shishido turns to him, grinning.  “Yeah, they’re having this… I dunno, a flirting competition, I guess.  It’s stupid, but really funny.”  
  
“It’s not a competition,” Atobe says, walking over to them.  “It’s a war.”  
  
“Oh, my mistake, Your Highness.  A flirting _war_.  Better?”  
  
Atobe smirks.  “You know, Ohtori, Shishido’s been rather helpful in this endeavor.  Just last week, he found something that I could use while he was looking at love poetry.”  
  
Gakuto snorts.  “You?  _Really_?”  
  
Shishido blushes and punches Gakuto in the shoulder.  
  
Choutarou smiles at Shishido, all innocence and purity.  “Oh, Shishido-san was looking at love poetry?”  
  
Shishido squawks, goes even redder, and buries his face in his hands.  
  
——  
  
Wednesday morning, Atobe walks into his classroom amidst the hushed whispers of his classmates, and stops dead when he sees his desk.  Or what’s _on_ his desk, rather.  
  
The bouquet of flowers is massive, about a meter tall and in an undoubtedly very expensive glass vase.  It’s incredibly gaudy, full of bright yellows and purples and pinks and reds springing out every which way.  It’s perfectly horrible, and far too huge for him to move on his own.  
  
Everyone in the room is whispering to each other and staring at him.  By lunch, this will be all over the school.  Behind him somewhere, he hears Shishido mutter, “Oh my _god_.”  
  
Amidst his horror, Atobe has to admit it’s a good move.  _Well played, Oshitari.  Now how the hell do I get this out of here?_  
  
Their homeroom teacher gives Atobe, and Shishido, at Atobe’s request, permission to leave class so they can haul the thing down to the club room for now.  Atobe thinks perhaps he’ll call one of his servants to leave it on Oshitari’s doorstep.  
  
——  
  
Come Thursday morning, the entire school is talking about the immense bouquet Atobe got yesterday, and Oshitari feels quite pleased with himself.  He’s expecting some sort of grand retaliation, so he’s surprised when nothing of the sort comes.  It’s not until lunch rolls around when he rummages around in his desk and realizes there’s a book that wasn’t there before.  
  
He pulls it out.  It’s a romance novel — the trashy sort, Oshitari’s favorite kind.  The title is _Shores of Solitude_ , and the cover features a dashing pirate and a pretty young peasant woman locked in a passionate embrace.  
  
Oshitari knows Atobe is trying to mock him, but he can’t help the feeling of genuine excitement that blooms in his chest.  
  
He seeks out Gakuto in his classroom and shows the book to him.  Gakuto looks it over and laughs.  
  
“Did he _seriously_ find one of these awful trashy—”  Gakuto stops suddenly.  “…Wait, he knows you actually like crap like this, right?”  
  
Oshitari smiles.  “I’m think I’m actually rather touched.  I don’t have this one yet.  I’ve been looking for it for quite a while, actually.”  
  
Gakuto studies the look of fondness on Oshitari’s face, and then says carefully, “Don’t you guys think maybe you’re taking this a little too far now?”  
  
“Far?”  Oshitari’s smile turns predatory.  “Oh no.  We’re just getting _started_.”  
  
——  
  
That Thursday evening, Atobe realizes how badly he’s miscalculated when Oshitari won’t stop flirting with him in the middle of tennis practice.  No, actually, this is far more than just flirting.  
  
“Hey, Atobe~” Oshitari croons in that damned low sultry voice of his as he drapes himself bodily over Atobe for no less than the third time that practice.  
  
Atobe just sighs.  _Don’t take the bait._   “So I take it you didn’t like the present, then?”  Truth be told, he’d had something grand and elaborate planned out this time, but he knew Oshitari would be expecting that, so he’d gone the more subtle route instead.  
  
“The present?  Oh no, I _loved_ it,” Oshitari breathes in Atobe’s ear.  “Why don’t I show you how much, hmm?”  
  
And damn, why does Oshitari have to have that _voice_ , the one that can make anything and everything sound sexual?  Atobe suppresses a shudder — from what, he’s not sure — and snaps at Oshitari, “Get back to practice.”  
  
Oshitari pulls away, then has the audacity to wink at him.  “Sure thing, _darling_.”  And he walks away, unashamedly swaying his ass for Atobe as he goes, and no, Atobe does _not_ stare at it.  
  
Around them, the entire club has broken out into hushed gossiping at the spectacle.  Atobe grits his teeth and shouts at them, “Back to practice before everyone in the club gets laps!”  
  
Screw subtlety.  He’s going all in from now on.  
  
Meanwhile, a ways away, Gakuto and Shishido haven’t been able to stop gaping at the two of them.  
  
“Shishido,” Gakuto says quietly, “ _what have we done_.”  
  
Shishido just silently looks over at him with an expression of horror.  
  
——  
  
Friday morning, as Oshitari walks through the front gates of the school, he notices that everyone he passes is staring at him.  And whispering.  And giggling.  A sinking feeling enters his stomach as he approaches the school building — a feeling that turns out to be completely right.  
  
Because there, hanging down from the roof of the school over the side of the building, is a banner.  A _massive_ banner.  On it, in big blocky letters, is written:  
  
OSHITARI YUUSHI  
WOULD YOU DO ME THE HONOR OF GOING OUT WITH ME  
  
…Atobe hadn’t even put his own name on it so they could share the public humiliation together.  The little _shit_.  
  
Around him, as he stares at the banner in shock, he can hear the other students chattering.  
  
“That _has_ to be Atobe, right—”  
  
“But it can’t be, his name isn’t on it—”  
  
“But who _else_ would do something like that—”  
  
“I thought Atobe didn’t swing that way—”  
  
“Wait, are you serious—”  
  
“Hey, guys, my friend in the tennis club said that yesterday Oshitari was _all over him_ —”  
  
Oshitari sighs heavily and heads down to the tennis club room, ignoring the stares and whispers and questions, and also ignoring Shishido and Gakuto’s identical looks asking what the hell he’s going to do about this one.  
  
If it’s public humiliation that Atobe wants, Oshitari can do that.  But he needs time to plan for this one.  
  
——  
  
Atobe spends the next few days enjoying being at the center of the chaos the banner has caused, and smirking and refusing to comment whenever someone asks him about it.  Since no one can prove it was actually him, the subject of the banner’s creator quickly becomes a hotly debated topic.  
  
Meanwhile, Atobe waits for Oshitari’s next move.  But for the next few days, there’s nothing, and the longer Atobe waits, the more worried he gets.  
  
Monday morning comes with still nothing, and Atobe won’t admit it, but he’s actually nervous about what Oshitari might be planning.  
  
“I’d say you shouldn’t be nervous about something as stupid as this, but y’know, considering what you did on Friday, I really think you should be worried,” Shishido says from his seat a few desks over.  
  
“I’m not nervous,” Atobe retorts, and it might be convincing to anyone but Shishido.  As it is, Shishido just rolls his eyes at him.  
  
“Why did this suddenly get so much more serious after Oshitari started flirting with you?  Which, by the way, was _traumatizing as hell_ to watch.”  
  
Atobe raises an eyebrow.  “Who says this is serious?”  
  
Shishido gapes at him.  “Oh _come on_.  You went from stupid notes in lockers to a freaking banner outside the school in a day!  And now you’re actually nervous about it.  _You_.  Atobe.  You really want me to believe this is still just a game?”  
  
The teacher walks in at that moment, sparing Atobe from replying.  It’s just as well; he’s not sure how he would have replied.  
  
——  
  
That day at lunch, Oshitari finally makes his move.  Atobe immediately wishes he hadn’t.  
  
The lunch break has just barely started when a knock comes from the classroom window.  One of the students nearby, curious, opens it up.  And there, lo and behold, is exactly the person Atobe was hoping it wasn’t: Oshitari, sitting on the ledge of the balcony outside the classroom, with something strapped to his back.  
  
 _How on_ earth _did Oshitari get onto the balcony?_ Atobe faintly wonders amidst his growing horror.  
  
Oshitari grins cheekily at the class.  “Since Atobe oh so graciously extended me an invitation the other day, I thought I should do something to return the favor.”  
  
And with that, he pulls the object off his back; it turns out to be a guitar.  An acoustic guitar.  Where did Oshitari even _get_ an acoustic guitar?  Since when did he even play?  
  
Before Atobe can say a word of protest, Oshitari has started playing, a slow, pretty ballad.  And then he starts singing.  In Italian.  
  
Atobe stares, spellbound, as their classmates look between them in disbelief.  Somewhere behind him, he hears Shishido muttering “oh my god, _really_ ” in a resigned voice.  The Italian words are beautiful, although Atobe doesn’t understand any of it, and Oshitari’s voice is low and sultry.  Despite himself, Atobe can’t look away.  
  
Damn.  This was a good move.  _Too_ good.  Now everyone will know that the banner was indeed Atobe’s fault, that Oshitari responded by _serenading_ him on a balcony in front of all of his classmates, that Atobe didn’t protest because he was flustered by the sound of Oshitari’s goddamned sexy voice.  
  
Maybe he can kill Oshitari for this and bury the body on Rikkai’s court.  No one will suspect him then.  
  
After what’s only a few minutes but seems like an eternity, Oshitari finishes his song.  Then he smirks, closes the window, and disappears as quickly as he came.  
  
Immediately, all of his classmates crowd around Atobe’s desk, demanding answers.  Atobe grimaces and pushes his way out of the crowd, for once not relishing being the center of attention.  
  
Once he escapes into a secluded hallway, he pulls one of his phones out of his bag.  It’s time to take drastic measures.  
  
——  
  
On Tuesday morning, quite suddenly, Atobe wins the game.  
  
In retrospect, Oshitari thinks he should’ve seen it coming.  As it is, everyone he meets that morning is asking about them, and Oshitari rides the high of his victory while wondering how Atobe’s going to top this one.  
  
He should have remembered who he was dealing with.  
  
Oshitari is standing outside the school building after morning practice, telling yet another group of girls his and Atobe’s (very romantic and incredibly fake) story, when he hears it.  The sound of a low-flying plane.  People inside are running out to see what’s going on, and Oshitari looks up, instinctively realizing what’s happening.  
  
Just as he looks up, the plane passes over.  Attached to its tail is a long banner, the kind usually used for advertisements.  Only, instead of an ad, there’s a personalized message with hearts around it, reading:  
  
I LOVE OSHITARI YUUSHI  
  
As quickly as it comes, it flies by, but not before at least half of the school has seen it.  Around him, everyone is staring.  
  
Of all the things, a _plane_.  It’s something that only Atobe, with his obscene amount of money and sense of grandiosity, could pull off.  And try as he might, Oshitari really can’t compete with that.  
  
Unheeding of all the eyes and the questions, Oshitari throws his head back and laughs.  
  
——  
  
That evening after tennis practice is over, Oshitari corners Atobe in the empty club room.  
  
“Okay, I concede defeat,” he says with a laugh.  “I surrender.  You win.”  
  
Atobe smirks.  “Finally you admit my superiority?”  
  
“I can’t compete with a plane banner.”  Oshitari smiles and shakes his head.  “Really, Atobe.  Did you have to go that far?”  
  
“You’re the one who started it.”  Atobe scoffs and turns away.  “Now everyone at school thinks we’re together.”  
  
“Wait, _I’m_ the one who—”  Oshitari stops.  There’s no winning that argument, not with Atobe.  “Never mind.  In any case…”  He grabs Atobe’s shoulder and leans in close.  “If everyone thinks that, perhaps we should give them what they want, hmm?”  
  
Atobe looks him in the eye, a small smirk playing on his lips.  “Is that a real invitation this time?”  
  
Oshitari grins and leans in to kiss him.  
  
With Atobe quick to respond to Oshitari’s initiation, the kiss is intense and passionate, and their bodies press close together in an embrace.  Oshitari turns to push Atobe’s back up against the lockers, and Atobe threads his fingers through Oshitari’s hair.  
  
“Mmm…” Atobe makes a noise in the back of his throat and tries to speak around Oshitari’s mouth.  “When did this… nn… stop being a joke?”  
  
Oshitari pulls back just a fraction to respond, breathless.  “You gave me a _romance novel_ ,” Oshitari says, sounding positively thrilled.  
  
Atobe laughs breathily.  “And what about you, hmm?  Really, Oshitari.  Italian?”  
  
Oshitari smirks at him.  “It worked, didn’t it?”  
  
“Ahh, just shut up.”  Atobe grips Oshitari’s hair and pulls him in close again.  
  
——  
  
The competition ends just as suddenly as it began, leaving the rest of the student body reeling at the sudden lack of florid displays affection.  
  
Their helpers are stunned by the last turn of events, once they find out.  “I can’t _believe_ I accidentally helped get them together,” Gakuto keeps moaning.  Shishido, for his part, maintains that whatever’s going on between the two of them, he doesn’t want to know.  
  
With neither Oshitari nor Atobe willing to offer an explanation, the student body’s curiosity about what exactly happened is at an all time high.  There’s a sharp divide, with about half the students adamant that it was all just a joke the entire time, while the other half claims it was all real and they actually did end up together.  The funniest part is that neither side is precisely wrong, per se.  
  
They’re the talk of the school for a while, but with the fickleness of the teenage hive mind, the craze dies down in a few weeks, and before long, everyone forgets it ever happened.  
  
And if Atobe and Oshitari still leave each other stupid mocking notes in their lockers, or occasionally disappear together somewhere on the school grounds, well, no one else needs to know about that but them.


End file.
